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I don't have a porch...and my livingroom is just trails through my wife's junk. But I thank you for the compliment. We could all bring dirty guns and clean them in the carport.

You keep gathering followers like this and they'll show up and build you a porch, just so you can sit in a rocking chair and tell more cool stories.

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Old folks, don't be offended, try and see my meaning. There's a great divide in older people. You have tunnel visioned, simple minded folk. Blue haired grannies that drive 25 in a 55 zone that only know knitting casseroles and Matthew, Mark, Luke & John. Nothing wrong with that, but they can get annoying because they have no imagination or vision at all. Just simple, content to be simple and critical of anyone NOT content with simple.

Then there's folk like you Bajabuc. The more stories you tell, the more I want to listen....err uh read. Thanks. There's not many of you. At least that I would have access to. *raises glass* Here's to many more years.

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so nafter reading all of this I wonder what you did for fun Buc?

I skydived...once...never again. I scubaed...before all the licensing bullpucky. I fly fished until I got so good at it that I knew I'd never get any better and quit. I hunted until I walked up on a whitetailed buck eating apples under an apple tree. Close enough that he didn't try and run when he finally saw me...the look in his eys was..Oh poop! I'm dead. I started to cry and haven't been since. When I walked back to the fence...a good 300 yards from the tree...he was still standing there looking directly at me. I built crazy 4x4 vehicles. I had the only 351 Cleveland powered 4x4 Falcon stationwagon. I built my first blackpowder rifle from a ford 3/4 ton rear axleshaft...they have a gun drilled 1/2" hole...a bunch of files and a downed maple tree I cut a slab of wood from for the stock. I had no idea what I was doing so it took 4 years. I never got to shoot it. I sold it to a collector who thought it was a pennsylvania long rife about 1770...even after he bought it he used it as the centerpiece of his huge collection. I toss atlatl darts. I've scrimshawed, leatherworked, smithed, loved my kids and my wife...hiked all over the mountains in Colorado, Wyoming, Montana and South Dakota. I peel tipi poles for fun and usually give them away. I blackpowdered in Montana, and Wyoming...won some shoots..lost some. Rebuilt old Volvos, Vegas, Mercurys. Sailed since I was 9...owned my own sailboat...Now I sit and complain about my joints...and that's a hobby too.

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BTW...I realize my present appearance is that of wild and wooly...On the day I retired I stopped shaving and have refused to cut my hair. I spent the last 30 or so years presenting a neat and tidy appearance and I got sick of it. Although my biblical quotes may not be KJV and they may not be exactly correct in their wording they do express the essence of 13 years as a Penetcostal Evangelist. Yup...I've done a lot of different things in my life...lived it, mostly. I've found out, over the years, that the simple act of getting out of bed presents decisions that must be made and those decisions will change your life. The only people who have lives that never change are the ones who don't get up...and that's a decision too.

I'm diagnosed bipolar and I just switched from funny to morose....heck and shuckydarn

Hmmm. I've heard something like this before.....but where.......OHH yeah!

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.

J.R.R. Tolkien

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I skydived...once...never again. I scubaed...before all the licensing bullpucky. I fly fished until I got so good at it that I knew I'd never get any better and quit. I hunted until I walked up on a whitetailed buck eating apples under an apple tree. Close enough that he didn't try and run when he finally saw me...the look in his eys was..Oh poop! I'm dead. I started to cry and haven't been since. When I walked back to the fence...a good 300 yards from the tree...he was still standing there looking directly at me. I built crazy 4x4 vehicles. I had the only 351 Cleveland powered 4x4 Falcon stationwagon. I built my first blackpowder rifle from a ford 3/4 ton rear axleshaft...they have a gun drilled 1/2" hole...a bunch of files and a downed maple tree I cut a slab of wood from for the stock. I had no idea what I was doing so it took 4 years. I never got to shoot it. I sold it to a collector who thought it was a pennsylvania long rife about 1770...even after he bought it he used it as the centerpiece of his huge collection. I toss atlatl darts. I've scrimshawed, leatherworked, smithed, loved my kids and my wife...hiked all over the mountains in Colorado, Wyoming, Montana and South Dakota. I peel tipi poles for fun and usually give them away. I blackpowdered in Montana, and Wyoming...won some shoots..lost some. Rebuilt old Volvos, Vegas, Mercurys. Sailed since I was 9...owned my own sailboat...Now I sit and complain about my joints...and that's a hobby too.

Okay, I take my previous post back. I know who you remind me of. A character named Hub. Played by Robert Duvall in a movie called Second Hand Lions.

You're the kind of guy that makes some of us lament our mundane lives.

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I brew...I have 'shined but that was so long ago I'd forgot. I adventure in my mind...I have determined I'm not going to die in my hometown or even home state. I know folks who were born, schooled, married, (divorced) worked, retired and died within 20 miles of the birthplace..to me, that's a wasted life. There is so much out there...this country of ours is so big and so great, I'll never tire of what the USA has for us. I love my country...I don't trust our government.

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I missed my ride to Yellowstone National Park...mom flat left me at home. She was gone two weeks...She said..."Well..the house is still standing...the dishes are done...the lawn is mowed, the trash is out...just one thing...WHERE'S MY HI FI?"

I pointed straight up...I don't know how it got on the roof...but it did.

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My daughter and I went to college together...We even lived in the same dorm...She on third me on 5th. Life got VERY interesting.

Why is it that i can see her complaining to the Dean about the party noise 2 flights up?

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Guest rebeldrummer

Oh my goodness Baj, you have given me a renewed interest in life itself with all your stories of old!

I feel like my life is so boring now....I need to do more. See more. Thank you for this, honestly.

I hope one day I can sit around, complaining about my joint pains...chasing grand babies and still taking orders from my wife!

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Why is it that i can see her complaining to the Dean about the party noise 2 flights up?

Complaining?...the parties were on her floor! I was trying to study!

I will admit...she turned 17 as a freshman at Montana State..graduated from HS and later college with a 4 point. She has two kids...divorced...hates her job and lives in the same as town as her mother. She is tiny...size one feet...when she buys "dressy clothes" she shops in the pre teen girls section. She has 99 pair of shoes...if she buys more she takes a matching number of shoes to Goodwill (she has been known to return the next day to buy them back) She lied on her first DL application. You have to be 5 foot tall in Montana and she said she was 5'2". After the deed was done she's just renewed or lied her way through getting a license in a different state. She was in the classroom across the hall when a student went nuts in Fergus County High School and started killing teachers and admin staff. Having grown up around me he knows what a gun sounds like. I'd like to say she was heroic and did cool things...but she hid in the teachers wastepaper basket. She has never gotten over it. The way the state handled the students after the shooting is presented to Student Psychologists as the worst way you can handle that kind of trauma.

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Guest earlybird

I got stabbed once, I think it should count for something. I have shot someone in the knee in defense, though. From their reaction, don't think I want to be shot. Sounded quite painful. Miss that Kimber, too.

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Stabbed works too. A knife used in anger is a slow bullet.

"Here lies Chugwater Slim. He brought a knife to a gunfight."

Carved on a gravestone in Chugwater Wyoming.

Cutting yourself by accident isn't included. Getting stabbed by someone with "intent" counts.

Edited by bajabuc
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Oh my goodness Baj, you have given me a renewed interest in life itself with all your stories of old!

I feel like my life is so boring now....I need to do more. See more. Thank you for this, honestly.

I hope one day I can sit around, complaining about my joint pains...chasing grand babies and still taking orders from my wife!

Ask your wife to consider a weekend camping trip. Tell her she can go if she likes. You don't even have to leave town...most places have a camping site for tourists passing through. I'm SERIOUSLY considering building a 10x12 pallet floor in my backyard and pitching a dometent on it. I sleep best outside.

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Five or six years ago I found a place that has "single use" red oak pallets..to give away.. Four foot by 10 feet. I bought a couple three 2x4's and slid the 2x4's in the pallets and bolted three pallets together. WOW..I have a 10x12 floor,deck, whatever. I set it on blocks and leveled it. I built four 4 post 2x4 stud walls and nailed them to the deck. I took more pallets and cut them so they fit in the studwall holes....Nailed them on. Board and batten to fill in the cracks. Took an old ARROW shed 10x12 metal roof and put it on top...Well, what do you know, a shed for my junk. It's mostly oak. My mother in law liked it so much she had me build her one. Well...I just thought...how about building another one and making a sauna only build it short so it's like a Cherokee sweatlodge only "constructed"...I haven't done that yet..but I think about it. The pet store down the street gets their fish shipped in insulated boxes...One inch thick fiberglas insulation inside plastic (Vynal) bags. I could staple that to the inside of the shedwalls and cover it all with billboard tarp. I'll bet it could get really hot pouring water on redhot stones set in a disc like farmers use to break up the clumps after plowing. Set a box frame and put some old asbestos siding on the bottom...fill the box with sand or firebrick,,,set the disc on the sand...hot rocks from a fire...you could even grill on the fire to keep the codes guy off your back...anyone wanna try it?

(The shed I built for me was fun...I'd no idea how it would come out. The shed I built for my motherinlaw was "work")

Edited by bajabuc
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"Well, we'd be losers, 'cause we would be just left with bows and arrows."

- Piper Palin (age 7) on gun confiscation.

Piper...If you have a bow and several arrows I know where you can get a gun. If only the police have guns, you have a police state and they become the enemy of the people. In a police state the police become puppets of the masters.

Edited by bajabuc
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Guest db99wj
I've been noticing this below the line tag:

"A fairytale starts Once upon a time...a fishermans story starts out..This is no bullish/+" Cpt. Phil Harris

Baja's stories just start

You got to start somewhere!

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(The shed I built for me was fun...I'd no idea how it would come out. The shed I built for my motherinlaw was "work")

I used to turn wooden bowls. I never did it with the intention of selling them, more as a means of getting away from life for a while. I used all kinds of exotic woods and they generally turned out really well. When I would finish them I would give them to my father and tell him to sell them and keep whatever he could get out of them. It was never about me making any money and I would probably make one a month or maybe even two if it was a stressful month. My father would sell most my bowls for $50-$150 to people as well as several artsy fartsy type stores in Sevierville and Gatlinburg.

Then one day about 2 months before Christmas. My father asked when I was going to start making bowls again because it had been a month or so since my last one. I said when I feel like it and he said I probably needed to start making some. He sounded odd so I asked why, he said he took in a bunch of orders and that I have to make about 25 bowls in time for Christmas. On top of this he had orders for bowls made out of various types of exotic wood that I didn't have on hand. I told him that I didn't have some of the wood and he said I would have to buy it because he couldn't. I told him a week or two later I probably couldn't make them all by Christmas because I also worked full time job. That is when he told me I had to because he already spent the money from some of the people's orders. So I worked 6+ hour days on top of my regular job for about 6 weeks in order to keep him out of hot water.

After I was done I asked about my cut for the ones he has yet to collect money for as well as repaying me for the wood I had to buy. His response was "you always gave the bowls to me before so I thought these were gifts as well". We argued a few minutes about it but in the end he said he didn't owe me a thing. Since then I have turned exactly one bowl and not for him. He has even called and said he took more orders for bowls. I said make them yourself because I am not making any more bowls. He got upset and tried to say I needed to pay back the people he had already taken money from. Probably because in his mind it was all my fault.

I really enjoyed turning bowls until it became a job. After that I lost all interest in turning bowls for fun.

Dolomite

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